


Hot July Moon

by ChibisUnleashed



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Triple Triad, Winter Festival 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:22:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChibisUnleashed/pseuds/ChibisUnleashed
Summary: Squall wants to play cards.Seifer wants to play something else.
Relationships: Seifer Almasy/Squall Leonhart
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28
Collections: Island Closest to Hell, Winter Festival 2020





	Hot July Moon

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2020 FF8 Winter Festival week 1 prompt: Triple Triad

Even hours after the sun had set, Balamb’s sand and rock still felt warm underneath them. The breeze sweeping in from the ocean carried the water’s warmth with it, and all of it together meant neither of them wanted long sleeves right now.

The rush of waves and the call of sea birds was interrupted only by the sharp slap of playing cards against stone. They would have been readable under the light of the full moon, but Squall had supplemented with the blue glow of Lionheart anyway. He liked its odd cast. Made everything look a little fuzzy and… soft.

Seifer had laid himself out on the rocks. The moon’s light traced his features in lines of white and gold, but all of his shadows were blue. He was hard to look at, but Squall looked anyway. Had to make sure the other man wasn’t cheating. 

He tilted his head to read Squall’s play, then held his hand of cards up where he could read them, turned to catch the moon’s light and none of Lionheart’s. His play was woefully sad. It didn’t work against him, but it wouldn’t do anything to stop Squall’s complete domination of the board.

“You’re not taking this seriously,” Squall accused. If he hated anything in this world, it was people who didn’t take Triple Triad seriously.

Seifer didn’t seem particularly bothered. “Of course I am,” he said, with the kind of inflection to his voice that implied Squall was an idiot for thinking otherwise. It was a tone Seifer liked to use a lot. “...What rules were we using again?” 

Squall glared.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” Seifer laughed. He set his hand back on his chest where it rested between moves. Squall preferred to view his cards at all times, to strategize at least two moves ahead, to be prepared for whatever Seifer played.

Seifer wasn’t playing much of anything.

“Exactly,” Squall said. “You’re not taking it seriously.”

Seifer snorted and turned away from the board. The moon highlighted every shape of his face, sharpening the world Squall had wanted to blur. “I’m taking it as seriously as I  _ can  _ take it, Squall. One of us traveled the world collecting the rarest and strongest cards from anyone he came across and the other is me. I’m not sure what you were expecting, dragging me all the way out here for  _ Triple Triad,  _ but it wasn’t going to be a competitive game of Triple Triad.”

Squall stared as Seifer closed his eyes, and wondered, for the first time, if perhaps it hadn’t been the best personal goal to collect the world’s rarest and strongest cards if it meant he really couldn’t experience a challenging game of Triple Triad ever again.

...Who was he kidding? Dominating the battle field was  _ the most  _ fun.

Especially if the opponent he got to dominate was  _ Seifer.  _

Who never would have accepted defeat so casually before. “Then what did you think I was dragging you all the way out here for?” Because Squall didn’t think it was to lose.

Seifer gave him a very distinct look. It said his question better be rhetorical, because an answer that obvious was only acceptable if a GF had taken his whole fucking mind away.

To be fair, laid out here, all alone together on the moonlit rocky shore of Balamb, surrounded by the soft lull of waves and cricket song, hidden from the world by distance and sea grapes… he could see Seifer’s point.

They stared at each other long enough that Seifer finally couldn’t stand it. He never did well with keeping his mouth shut. “I was kind of expecting a little more lips and dicks and—”

Squall didn’t need him to keep talking. He had gotten the message loud and clear. Coarse sand scraped against rock as Squall moved to straddle Seifer’s leg and stop those incessant words in their tracks. 

To his credit, Seifer caught up quick, welcoming Squall’s mouth against his with greedy hands and an eager tongue. Lips and dicks, indeed.

Squall let him nip and grip and squirm against him until he could  _ feel  _ just how agreeable the other man’s mood would suddenly be. Then he sat up just enough to let the moonlight between them. 

“If I promise to stay right here,” Squall said, “do you promise to take this game seriously?”

Seifer nodded like he would have agreed to anything just then. Squall knew that he would; that was the whole idea.

_ Good.  _

Because Squall really wanted his Alexander card.

  
  



End file.
